


Texts From Last Night

by Powerfulweak



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, DeanCas - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, Fluff, M/M, Miscommunication, Pining!Cas, Unrequited Love, drunk!Cas, pining!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-07
Updated: 2015-04-07
Packaged: 2018-03-21 18:20:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3701843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Powerfulweak/pseuds/Powerfulweak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean receives an incoherent text from a very drunk Castiel. He chauffeurs his friend home but ends up with a nearly-naked Cas in his bed and a night of drunken cuddling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is based on prompts I received from an ask game on Tumblr. Original prompts [Here](http://powerfulweak.tumblr.com/post/115679329140/destiel-6-forthe-drabble-thing)and [Here](http://powerfulweak.tumblr.com/post/115776089980/dean-and-cas-46-are-you-still-doing-the-prompts)

Castiel’s text gives Dean pause.

 _I nerd aswrg rIFe_. He frowns and slides open his phone, dialing Cas’ number.

“M’ello,” a garbled voice answers.

“Cas?” Dean asks. “That you?”

“Deaaannnn,” Cas drawls. “Hey, it’s Dean!” His voice is drowned out by the flood of background noises and voices on the other end.

“Cas! Hey, Cas!” Dean shouts into the phone. “What’s going on, man? Are you drunk?” This raises some red flags for Dean. Castiel rarely drinks, and even when he does, he never gets drunk.

“No, no, nonono,” Cas slurs. “I am not drunk, but I am a bit inibrat… inibiberated... I am feeling something.” Dean laughs to himself; he’s never seen this side of his friend before.

“Well, that’s great, Cas,” He says. “Do you, um, need a ride or something?”

“Ride! Yes, ride,” Cas exclaims, “Yes, a ride would be good.” Dean sighs in relief. He’ll definitely feel more comfortable when Cas is on the way home from wherever he is.

“Ok dude, I’ll come and get you,” Dean says. “Where are you?” There is a long pause on the other end.

“I’m at a house,” Castiel offers. “Gabriel was here, but he’s gone, I think. And there is this guy here. I don’t think he’s from around here. He sounds… fancy.” Dean sighs to himself. This is going to take a while.

“Ok, Cas, I need you to do me a very big favor, ok?” Dean says, moving toward the door and slipping on his shoes and coat. “I need you to find someone who is vaguely sober and give the phone to them.”

“Sure thing,” Cas giggles. Dean hears movement in the background and Castiel calling out “Hey Balthazar” before the phone abruptly cuts off.

“... Cas? Cas? Hello?” Dean groans and rubs between his eyes. It’s going to be a long night.

* * *

 

Dean manages to get ahold of Gabriel, waking him up in order to get directions to the party Cas is at (and also taking the opportunity to chew him out over leaving Cas there).

As soon as he gets in the house, he’s greeted by a very drunk, very happy Castiel tackling him in a hug.

‘Deeeeeeean,” He slurs.”You made it to the party! That’s wonderful. Here, let me introduce you to my new friends…”

“I don’t think so, man,” Dean says as he pulls Cas’ arm over his shoulder and leads him toward the door. “I think you’re about partied out.”

“You are mistaken,” Castiel says, “I just getting my second-” Castiel burps softly and Dean manages to turn him toward the flower bed as he loses the contents of his stomach.

“Better?” Dean asks, grimacing in disgust. Castiel groans and flops his head onto Dean’s shoulder. “Yeah, let’s get you home.”

He loads Cas into the passenger seat of the Impala, rolling down the window and giving him concise instructions that if he is going to puke, keep it outside of the car. Cas dozes with his face pressed to the door the entire ride home. Dean keeps casting glances at his friend. When they stop at a light, he takes the chance to brush a few stray hairs off of his sweaty forehead.

They drive to Dean’s place, since he wants to make sure Castiel is ok throughout the night. Dean leads him up the steps toward his apartment. Cas slumps against the wall as Dean unlocks the door.

“Alright, Cas, c’mon,” He says, leading him through the front door and into his kitchen. He leans Cas up against the fridge as he fills a glass of water from the sink, handing it to Cas and demanding he drink it. He searches through the cabinets for a minute, finding a bottle of motrin and shaking out a couple pills.

“Take these. I’m going to find you a pillow and some extra blankets,” Dean orders. “You can crash on my couch tonight.” Cas nods dumbly, not meeting Dean’s eye, and he darts down the hall to retrieve the bedding.

Dean grabs a pillow and spare blanket from the hallway closet and ducks into the bathroom to get the trash can in case Cas gets sick again. When he steps back into the living room with the items, though, Cas is nowhere to be seen.

Dean starts to panic, scared that maybe Cas wandered off, until he notices his bedroom light is on. He heads in that direction, stopping in the doorway when he sees Cas, in the buff, snuggling under his comforter.

“Uh, Cas?” Dean asks, taking a step into the room. “Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”

“S’comfy,” Cas mumbles into the pillow, “And m’not naked. Wearing boxers.” Dean lifts the corner of his blanket carefully to see that, yes, Castiel is still wearing his underwear. It’s a sight Dean has dreamed of seeing for a very long time: Castiel, curled up in his bed. Dean wants it, but not when he’s like this. He scrubs a hand over his face in exasperation.

“C’mon, man, get up,” he says, taking hold of Cas’ wrist, “I have the couch all made up for you.”

“No!” Cas pouts, tugging his hand out of Dean’s grasp. “I want to stay here. Your bed is warm.”

“Cas,” Dean says lowly, leveling a stare at his drunk friend.

“Please, Dean,” Cas begs, turning his head away from the pillow and looking up to Dean with bloodshot eyes. As much as Dean loves Cas (and he really _loves_ Cas), sometimes the guy is a real pain in the ass. Especially when he pulls out that “puppy-dog-eye” shit like Sam does.

“Fine,” Dean sighs. He grabs his trash can, placing it beside the bed on Cas’ side. He strips back down to a tee and shorts and crawls into the other side of the bed before switching off the light.

As soon as it’s dark, he hears movement and feels Castiel curling up next to him. He tenses as Cas snakes his arm over Dean’s waist and cuddles against his back.

“Warm,” he drawls before dozing off, snoring softly. Dean lays in bed, wide-awake and hyper-aware of the body next to him, the body he’s dreamed about having next to him for a few years now.

He thinks of how easy it would be to pull Castiel under his arm and hold him all night, just as he’s always wished. Maybe he’d wake up in the morning and suddenly realize that yes, he was in love with Dean, too.

Dean closes his eyes sadly, knowing that he’s a fool for even thinking that. Cas sighs in his sleep and his hold on Dean tightens. Tentatively, Dean rest a hand over Cas’, enjoying the small thrill as their fingers lace together.

Maybe Dean can’t get what he wants, but for tonight he can pretend that this, whatever it is, is real.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ... And the morning after

Dean wakes slowly, first aware of the sun pouring in through the slots in the blinds, then of the fan whirring softly above his head, and finally of the warm body curled up against his side. Cas’ face is pressed against Dean’s shoulder and he can feel soft puffs of breath with every exhale against his skin.

Dean smiles to himself as he watches Cas sleep, his heart swelling with affection. Even having Cas this close to him seems like a dream. A beam of sunlight cuts across Cas’ bare shoulder and Dean wants nothing more than to lick it off his skin.

Dean knows that once Cas wakes up, everything will return to normal. He hadn’t planned on sleeping next to his half-naked best friend, but he didn’t have much choice in the matter. He had dragged a very drunk Cas home from a house party after receiving a unintelligible text message last night. By the time he’d gotten the couch ready for Cas, his bed had already been commandeered by his stripped-down friend. They’d spent the better part of the night spooned together.

Dean sighs and carefully lifts his hand, lightly brushing it through the mop of Cas’ dark hair. He’s longed to do that for so long. He needs to commit this moment, this one perfect moment, to memory before Cas wakes up.

“Dean?” He hears his brother calling his name from the hallway. He considers how he can answer Sam without waking Cas when the door abruptly opens.

“Hey Dean,” Sam announces loudly as he bursts into the room. “Have you seen the- _Oh_!” Dean’s eyes widen and he shushes Sam frantically.

“ _Would you shut the fuck up?_ ” He hisses under his breath, causing Cas to stir slightly. Sam mumbles a “sorry” and sheepishly backs up out of the doorway, shutting the door behind him. Dean groans softly and falls back onto his pillow, dragging his hand over his face. He glances down at Castiel, still cuddled tightly against him and sleeping like the dead.

Gingerly, Dean extracts his arm from around the other man. He slowly moves out of bed, avoiding the squeaky spring, and exits the room, carefully closing the door.

Sam is waiting for him on the on the couch, a pensive look on his face.

“What’s going on Sam?” Dean mutters, scratching a hand through his hair. Sam glances up at his brother with a questioning glare.

“You tell me?” He asks, “What was going on in there?”

“Nothing,” Dean says, shaking his head.

“So there wasn’t a naked Cas in your bed?” Sam asks, raising an eyebrow.

“He wasn’t naked,” Dean corrects, as he moves to the kitchen to start the coffee pot. “He’s wearing boxers.” Sam snorts humorlessly and shakes his head.

“Are you going to explain to me why Castiel is in your bed in only his boxers?” Sam gives him a deliberate look. Dean groans and rubs at his neck; it is way too early in the morning to have this conversation.

“Look, he was hammered last night and called me for a ride,” he explains. “I brought him here to sleep it off-”

“And you conveniently led him into your bedroom,” Sam supplies sarcastically.

“No!” Dean asserts. “I was going to put him on the couch but he took over my bed.”

“And you couldn’t take the couch?” Sam asks, accusation hanging between them.

“You know the couch hurts my back,” Dean reminds him. “And anyway my bed is big enough for two people and nothing happened.” Sam looks at Dean incredulously.

“You expect me to believe that?” He huffs. “The guy you’ve been in love with for years ends up in your bed, drunk and almost naked and _nothing_ happens.”

“Yes!” Dean stresses. “Christ, Sammy, the guy was barely coherent last night. You think I’m some kind of rapist?”

“You swear you didn’t sleep with him?” Sam squares his jaw and stares him down. Dean has a sudden clear picture of how frightening all six-foot-four-inches of Sam can be in the courtroom.

“Of course not, I would never do that!” Dean exclaims. “I swear on Mom’s grave!” Sam’s shoulders relax and Dean can tell he believes him.

“It’s not like I wouldn’t,” he says sadly, as he scoops coffee grounds into the filter, “But there’s no way I would try anything, especially as out-of-it as he was.” Sam gives him a concerned look. Only a few people were privy to Dean’s feelings toward Cas, and none more so than Sam.

“How come you two were all snuggled together, then?” he asks. Dean shrugs absently as he fills the carafe with water and pours it into the well.

“Cas is a drunk cuddler,” he offers with a shrug. There is a long pause and Dean starts the pot, listening to the hot water gurgle and bubble.

“You need to tell him how you feel,” Sam says quietly. Dean stares straight ahead, watching the black liquid start to pour into the pot.

“I can’t, Sam,” he mutters.

“Dean, even if he doesn’t-”

“I just can’t!” He hisses. “Cas is my best friend. I can’t lose him even if it means… even if that’s all I get. It’s better than nothing.”

* * *

 

Castiel wakes to the sound of voices. He’s first aware of the throbbing pain behind his eyes and the sour taste in his mouth, followed by the realization that he isn’t in his own bedroom. It takes only a cursory glance at the framed Chevy posters on the wall to determine this is Dean’s room.

Details from the night before begin to come back to him: Gabriel inviting him out and then quickly ditching him to go home with some girl, meeting the guy with the British accent who kept plying him with some drink called a “Backdraft”, texting Dean for a ride home… spending the night wrapped up next to Dean in his bed.

The last memory causes Cas to smile, inspite of his pain. His crush on Dean had slowly been growing since they’d met a few years ago. He knew nothing was ever going to come of it; Dean was straight after all. There were a parade of women constantly coming and going from his apartment and his bed.

This bed, Castiel is all at once aware of.

As much as he’d tried to keep his feelings for Dean superficial, somehow he too had fallen victim to Dean’s charm. Could he really be blamed? Dean is handsome, caring, loyal… straight. It was the last detail that Cas tried not focus on. He had continually warned himself of the danger of falling for a straight guy. Yet he felt like maybe, _just maybe_ , he could change Dean’s mind. Last night felt like a step in the right direction.

Cas rolls over lazily and presses his face into Dean’s pillow, inhaling the wonderfully musky scent. His attention is drawn away by the quickly rising voices outside the door.

“You swear you didn’t sleep with him?” That’s Dean’s younger brother, Sam. Cas clearly recognizes his voice.

“Of course not, I would never do that!” Dean yells. “I swear on Mom’s grave!” Castiel’s face falls and the bottom drops out of his stomach.

Well… there is it, isn’t it? Exactly what he fears is coming true. Dean just stated, in no uncertain terms, that a relationship between him and Cas would never happen.

Castiel swallows hard, pushing down a swell of bile rising in his throat. He crawls out of bed and gathers his clothes off the floor, quickly pulling on his jeans and oxford shirt. He grabs his phone out of his pocket and considers for a moment calling Gabriel for a ride, before opening the Uber app and calling up a car.

He opens the doors to the bedroom and steps into the hallway. He can hear Dean and Sam mumbling lowly from the kitchen, but can’t make out what they are saying. He doesn’t want to know, truth be told. He clears his throat loudly, making his presence known. Sam and Dean both turn their heads in unison to look at him.

“Hey Cas,” Dean offers with false cheeriness, “How are you feeling man?”

“Fine,” Cas says stiffly, his voice hoarser than normal. Dean stands up from where he was leaning against the counter.

“You feel like any breakfast?” He asks. “I can whip up some eggs or maybe some waffles?” Cas grimaces, still nauseous with his hangover, and places a hand on his stomach.

“No thank you, Dean,” he mumbles. “I think I’m just going to get home.”

“Well, hey, let me give you a ride,” Dean offers. “I just need to get some pants on and grab my keys-” Cas cuts him off with a shake of his head.

“Thank you for the offer, but I’ve already called a car.” Cas says. “Excuse me, I better be going.” He mumbles a quick goodbye to Sam and pushes his way out the door. As his hurries down the stairs, Cas feels tears begin to spring at the corner of his eyes.

At least he held out until he got outside the apartment.

* * *

 

Sam and Dean stand in awkward silence after Castiel bolts through the door like a bat out of Hell.

“Dude,” Dean frowns in confusion. “Did he seem weird to you?” Sam raises an eyebrow.

“Did you say anything to him last night?” Dean shrugs absently.

“I just helped him into bed and told him not to puke in the car.” He mumbles. “Do you think maybe he’s embarrassed about getting drunk?”

“He definitely looked embarrassed about something.” Sam says. He moves through the kitchen, grabbing a mug out of the cupboard and pouring a cup of coffee for himself.

“Do you… Do you think I should apologize? About the cuddling? Maybe say something?” Sam levels a stare at Dean and nods like that is the most obvious answer. Dean groans and tugs on a pair of shoes, booking it out the door.

* * *

 

Castiel sniffles pathetically and wipes at his eyes. Everyone warned about falling in love with Dean. Gabe had told him countless times he was just going to end up with a broken heart in the end. Of course, Castiel never listened. Every time he resolved to rid himself of his stupid infatuation, Dean would flash that 1000-watt smile and Cas would be done for.

He scrubs his hands down his face, trying to wipe away the tears and snot. How did he get so pathetic,  bawling on the curb outside of Dean’s apartment?

“Cas!” Dean calls out, “Hey, Cas!” Castiel rolls his eyes. _Great_ , he thinks to himself, _let’s just rub a little more salt in the wound_. He sniffs one last time, trying to gether his bearings as he hears Dean approaching.

“Cas, what’s going on, man?” Dean asks, stopping next to him. “What was that all about?”

“What was what all about?” Castiel looks up at Dean from the curb, plastering on a fake smile. Dean looks at him, clearly not buying it.

“C’mon man, talk to me,” He says gently. “Did I do something wrong? Did I piss you off? Look whatever it was-”

“Don’t worry about it, Dean!” Cas snaps, smile faltering. “I just… I just want to get home. I feel like shit and just want to sleep it off.”

“You’re welcome to crash here,” Dean offers. “Come back inside. We’ll park our asses on the couch, I’ll make up some waffles, and we can watch that bee documentary on Netflix you won’t shut up about.” Castiel’s shoulders slump. Why does Dean have to do this? Why does he have to act all sweet and comforting and keep pulling Cas back in?

He shakes his head emphatically and gets to his feet. “No, no, no. I’m just going to go, ok? Just… leave me alone, alright?” Dean’s expression turns pained and he reaches out for Cas, placing a hand on his arm. Cas tugs it away.

“Just stop, Dean! Stop this… pretending!” Cas shouts abruptly. “You can stop all this pitying bullshit. I heard what you said to Sam, alright?” Dean’s eyes widen and then his expression goes blank.

“Oh,” he says flatly.

“Look I know the idea of… being with me is so disgusting to you, but you can’t…” Castiel groans quietly and presses the heels of his hands into his eyes, fighting back another round of tears. “You can’t keep… screwing with my heart like this!”

“What do you mean being with you is disgusting?” Dean asks, brow deeply furrowed in confusion. “What are you talking about?” Castiel shakes his head and sniffs helplessly.

“I can’t keep pretending I’m not… I spent the whole night in your arms and it’s the best feeling I’ve had all year. Then I wake this morning with you yelling at Sam that you would never sleep with me, ‘swear on your mother’s grave!’” It feels cathartic to say it all and Castiel collapses back down to the curb, trying to contain a sob. He doesn’t look at Dean’s face; he can’t bear to see the pity and disgust that will no doubt be there.  

“Cas,” Dean says gently. “That’s not what I said.”

“Don’t lie to me, Dean!” Cas chokes out. “I heard you myself.” Dean sits down on the curb next to him, but Castiel still can’t bring himself to look up.

“Sam found us together in bed this morning,” Dean explains slowly.“I explained to him that you texted me for a ride home because you were drunk. Sam was worried that I…” Dean swallows hard, as if he’s trying to force the words out, “that I would take advantage of you.” Castiel raises his head and finally looks at Dean. His mind is racing with this new information.

“Sam knows how I feel... About you, I mean,” Dean continues, “He was worried I tried having sex with you when you weren’t coherent. As much as I… would love to be with you, I would never try anything with you without your consent.” The final words come out fitfully and Dean rubs a hand over his eyes. Castiel’s jaw drops, realization slowly dawning on him.

“Are you… Are you saying that you like me?” Castiel asks. Dean huffs a watery laugh, his eyes glimmering with unshed tears.

“‘Like’ is putting it kinda lightly,” Dean admits. He turns to Cas with deep, honest eyes. “I’m in love with you. I have been for a long time and I don’t expect- _umph_!” Cas rushes forward, cutting Dean off mid-sentence with a kiss. Dean tenses in surprise before melting against him, lips parting in eagerly.

Kissing Dean feels like a weight lifting off of Cas’ chest. He feels dizzy from the high of being able to express his love for this man. He deepens the kiss, greedy to feel more of Dean, taste more of him. He’s waited so long to have this and he has no time to be patient.

Dean kisses him back enthusiastically, like a man dying and kissing Castiel is the only thing that will sustain him. His teeth and and tug at his lips and Cas find himself longing to feel those teeth all over his body.

They break apart slowly, both gasping for breath. Castiel leans his head forward and presses his face into Dean’s neck, inhaling the heady scent of his skin.

“I thought...” Cas mutters. “I thought you were straight.” He looks up at Dean hesitantly.

“I’m bisexual, actually,” Dean admits with a soft laugh. Castiel blinks owlishly.

“But, but you never said anything,” He pulls back and looks as Dean seriously. “We’re best friends and you never told me?!” Dean looks away and shrugs.

“I don’t know,” Dean sighs, “I always assumed you were uncomfortable around sex. I didn’t want to upset you.  I mean, we never talked about it and you never seemed interested in anyone-”

“I was interested in you!” Cas exclaims, a smile breaking across his face. “How long have you felt this way, Dean?”

“Years,” he admits.

“But you slept with other people, other women…” Cas trails off.

“Yeah, I’m not proud of it,” Dean looks away in embarrassment, “I kept trying to move on from you, but I couldn’t. You were always there and… I don’t know, Cas, I was a dumbass.” Castiel snorts quietly and draws Dean into his arms.

“We were both dumbasses,” he offers. Dean’s arms wind around his torso, squeezing him tight.

“I love you, Cas.” The words wash over him in a warm wave. “I really do.”

“Love you too, Dean,” He replies, finally saying out loud what he’s kept inside for so long.

A car pulls up to the curb in front of them and the driver rolls down the window.

“Did one of you call and Uber Car?” An older blonde woman asks, poking her head out the window. Castiel looks up and shakes his head.

“We don’t need it anymore,” he says, his grip on Dean tightening. The woman stares at the two of them with a bored expression.

“You do realize there’s still going to be a fee, right?” She says flatly. Cas nods in understanding. “Alright then, have a nice day.” She rolls up the window and the car drives off. Dean leans forward, pressing kisses into Cas’ shoulder. Cas shuts his eyes and leans his head back against Dean’s.

“How’re you feeling?” he asks. Cas hums in thought.

“Better than I was,” he admits, “but…”

“Still hungover?” Dean supplies.

“Yeah,” Cas says with a chuckle. “Hey Dean, does that offer for waffles and Netflix still stand?” Dean looks up, eyes warm and loving, and nods. He rises to his feet and pulls Castiel off the curb.

“C’mon, let’s get you fed,” he says. They walk hand-in-hand back into the building and into Dean’s apartment.

 

 


End file.
